Accidental Surrogate

Ella “Ella,” my mate growls as my tears start to subside a little bit. And I look up at him with a sniff, into his face that is terribly dark with his anger. His whole body is shaking – not trembling like mine was, but honestly shaking as if he’s trying very, very hard to hold himself back.

“You need to tell me, right now,” Sinclair continues, his voice thick with the effort of not bursting from the room and hunting down the Prince, ” what the hell just happened. I need to know whether or not I need to go murder someone.” A dark little laugh bursts from me at this – at the casual way my gorgeous mate threatens murder – and his growl intensifies because he is perfectly serious.

Hastily I shake my head no as I look up at him.

“No, Dominic,” I say, doing my best to pull myself together and stand up straight.

“It’s not like that – it’s…” and I sigh, my eyes going wide. “I mean, it’s a lot – but he didn’t do anything really bad.” To my surprise, Dominic snarls, his head whipping towards the door.

“Dominic, I just said that – ” “You said not really bad,” he snaps, implying that he did something bad.” I reach a hand up now and place it on his cheek, something about Sinclair losing his temper allowing me to fortify myself, to pull myself together for both of us. “I’m going to need you to contain all of this,” I say quietly, making him look at me. “Because you are not going to like what I have to say. But you have to hear it.” “Please, Ella,” he murmurs, dropping his arms from their tight place around me and taking my face in his hands. ” You’re killing me. Please, please tell me what is going on.” “Not until you promise not to murder anyone,” I say, dead serious.

And he sighs, but then he nods, agreeing to my terms.

And then I take my mate’s hand and I lead him over to the bed. I take a moment just the briefest one peer into my baby’s crib, my heart filling with joy at the sight of my sweet, darling baby boy. I send him a very tiny pulse of happiness and joy down the bond, hoping it gives him sweet dreams, and then I turn to my bed, and I pull back the covers, and I kick off my shoes and climb in fully dressed. to “What the hell?” Sinclair asks. “Ella, you’re -” “Just get into bed,” I sigh, reaching for him. “Come on bed is…it’s where we are just us, where we have all our best talks.” Sinclair sighs but, seeing that I’m serious, he does as I say, crawling over me to get to his side of the bed and then slipping himself under the covers. I immediately curl up next to him, tucking my head beneath his chin as he wraps his arms around me.

“All right, trouble,” he murmurs, again kissing the top of my head, and I smile at the nickname, because it lets me know that he’s in a better emotional place to hear news that I know is going to wreck him. “Tell me everything.” And I do as my mate says.

and I don’t hold anything

all about how much Calvin and I were instantly drawn to each other from the moment I saw him, about the pulses of energy between us whenever we touched. I tell him about the genuine friendship I feel for the man and our instant connection – how it feels, immediately, like talking to an old friend. And then I tell him about what happened tonight – the

grateful for him, but also because I think he needs it, needs to feel my body close so that he doesn’t race out of the

breaks when I finally tell

his eyes on the door. His whole body is trembling again, harder now, and he very obviously holds himself back from shifting

reaching for him, ” don’t -” “What the hell am I supposed to do, Ella,” he growls, and I see his body start to shift as he loses control, his shoulders hunching, his nails elongating to razorsharp claws. “Just let this man live after he’s tried to take you from me!?” “He didn’t -” “He did!” Sinclair barks, and then he loses it, letting out a roar as he transforms fully into his wolf and sprints for the door. He bashes the handle with

long moment to pull myself together as I stare at the open door

probably out there hunting a Prince, adding more fuel to the fire

I turn my head towards my child, who still screams with fear and shock and sadness,

arms and shush him lightly as I move to the door, pushing it shut

with me tonight I need to talk this through with him, and as much as I realize that he’s upset I can’t believe

child, and I stare at his poor crying face, I force myself to slow

his mate, and Sinclair might be rightly flipping

I’m steady.

choice long ago, and as I look down at my little Rafe – who looks so much like his

my baby and he settles a little in my arms, though he still fusses, unnerved by the noise and the surge of emotions that woke him. So, I continue to bounce him a little, shushing and murmuring comforting nonsense. As I keep my attention to my baby, I move